


From the Tips of Your Fingers

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Couch Cuddles, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Jack has a habit of forgetting, so he writes reminders on Mark's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Tips of Your Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted some soft, cute fluff. Nothing too exciting, just some quiet cuddles and kisses, and maybe the promise of more. 
> 
> Enjoy.

“Mark, what's that on your hand?” 

Mark looks up, staring at his friend, Danny, in curiosity before Danny gestures to his left hand. Mark turns over his hand until it is palm up, and reads the words _send email to Ma_ , on one finger in tiny scrawl, followed by _clean off desk, pick up flowers, Felix @ 2 Thursday,_ and _Post office before Friday_ on the remaining fingers. Across his palm is written _tell Mark you love him_. Once they process in his mind, Mark laughs, shrugging his shoulders.

“It's for my boyfriend,” he answers. “He has this thing about forgetting things. So he writes reminders on my hands.”

“Why _your_ hands?” Danny prompts. “Shouldn't it be _his_ hands?”

Mark shrugs again. “He doesn't remember to look at his hands. He's always really busy, so it just slips his mind. But at the end of the night when he's calmed down, we usually spend some time together, and he'll see whatever he's left for himself on _my_ skin. So really, he just remembers to look at mine.”

~~

The evening rolls in quietly, as they usually do. Mark is curled underneath a blanket, sitting on the couch as he clicks through the movies on Netflix. Some look good, others not so good, and mentally he picks out movies he thinks Jack will like too, because his favorite Irishman will be home at any moment, now.

Sure enough, at thirteen minutes past eleven, the front door opens as he watches some old cheesy thing, and Jack's already pulling off his shoes, kicking them off before closing the door behind him. He locks it and lets out a weary sigh, tugging off his hoodie as he slings it over the edge of the chair. He meets Mark's gaze. Mark turns down the TV and lifts the blanket up, waving his hand for Jack to join him. This is a common practice for the two of them, and has been for the last four years since getting together.

A tired smile crosses Jack's lips as he settles down next to him, snuggling up as close as he can get. Mark wraps an arm around him and Jack rests his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes as his breathing evens out. Not sleeping, Mark reminds himself—Jack's just resting. Lord knows he need more of that.

The soft whir of the TV distracts him until Jack shifts, a little while later, having had his fill of rest. Still pressed close to Mark's side, he raises a hand up, fingers splayed, and Mark raises his own hand in turn.

Jack's eyes skirt over the messy penmanship, tracing his pointer finger across the tiny words on each of Mark's fingers. He mouths the words to himself, his face pinched, as if frustrated that he can't remember writing it. He's nodding his head, though, so he must have completed some of the tasks written. As if on cue, he taps some of Mark's fingers down, namely the one for the email and the one for the flowers. Then, after a moment of stillness, he taps down the one for his desk, and then the other two remain up. It's only Wednesday, after all.

Pausing, Jack traces his fingers across Mark's palm, mouthing the words again before his eyes soften. His gaze flickers to his boyfriend, who gives him an encouraging smile. Jack intertwines their fingers, now ignoring the ink, before he turning his head to kiss Mark gently. It's short, and sweet, and Mark grins into it. Upon its end, Jack snickers, letting out a quiet sigh before he bumps noses with him, causing Mark to erupt into a fit of giggles. Jack's laughter soon mingles in.

“Love you,” Jack murmurs.

Mark breathes out. He reaches forward and cups Jack's cheeks, tilting his head to kiss him again, this time a little stronger, deeper, as if to say the words back to him with action alone. Jack hums as he kisses back, his hands gripping his wrists loosely. 

He takes this opportunity to break the kiss, pushing his boyfriend back gently against the cushions of the couch. Kicking the blanket off, it falls to the ground, forgotten as Mark leans over him, his hands on either side of his head. For a long minute, he stares at him, taking in every small detail, from the scruff on his cheeks to the paleness of his skin, to the fond light in the blue of his eyes. 

Mark is expecting Jack to squirm under his gaze, like he used to, like he always does—he tends to get nervous under scrutiny, but he seems relaxed, now. His shoulders are at ease, his eyes half-lidded, comfortable in his presence. His chest rises and falls slowly, waiting for the next move. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to Jack's forehead. Mark waits a beat, before pressing a kiss to his nose, then his cheeks, then along his jawline, letting his lips linger for a fraction longer there before resuming down his neck. 

Jack's breath hitches as Mark trails kisses along the hollow of his throat, nipping at the soft flesh. Jack's fingers claw fruitlessly at the couch cushions, as if trying to get a grip, but eventually he reaches up, pulling Mark up from his neck so he can catch his lips. Mark happily obliges with that, the tentative nibble on his lower lip a strong enough indication for him to deepen the kiss, groaning softly as Jack's fingers weave themselves into his hair, pulling at the locks. 

But after a few moments of the slow, passionate kiss, Jack tilts his head, effectively breaking it. He tucks his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing at it anxiously for a moment before mumbling, “Tired.”

Mark can't contain the soft laugh that escapes him at that, before he hops up and off the couch. Jack begins to sit up, but before he can fully do so, Mark scoops him up in his arms, earning a surprised yelp from his boyfriend. Jack's giggles fill his ears as he says, “I can _walk_ , Mark.” 

“Maybe,” Mark chirps in return as he begins towards the bedroom. “But I wouldn't want my favorite Irishman to collapse before he can get to bed, would I?” 

Jack rolls his eyes, still sporting a grin as Mark enters their bedroom, plopping him down onto the bed. Jack lets out a low sigh, shucking off his pants and tugging off his socks. He's already pulling up the covers over himself as Mark slides in next to him. Jack closes his eyes, and Mark smiles, leaning over to turn off the lamp.

“Wait,” Jack's sleepy voice interrupts him, and as he glances over, Jack is slapping his hand onto his nightstand, obviously feeling for something.

When he finds it, he rolls back over, pen in hand. “So I don't forget.”

Obviously he's fearful to forget something, so Mark chuckles, automatically offering his hand out, and Jack takes it. He reads the words on his palm, brushing his thumb over it, mumbling again, “Love you so much,” as if to reaffirm that he's completed it. Then he writes below it, and Mark's long since gotten used to the slight tickle of the pen tip. After he finishes, Jack caps the pen and tosses it back to his nightstand with a soft thud, blowing on the ink a bit to dry it properly before letting go.

Mark reads the words, _buy the ring_ , and his heart squeezes in his chest, so much so he fears it might pop from happiness. 

But Jack says nothing. He yawns, and presses his face into Mark's shoulder, sighing contently when Mark puts his arm around him. Mark presses a kiss to his boyfriend's head, and decides to pretend, for Jack's sake, that he hasn't seen the reminder. But he smiles.

Sleep comes easy that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. Thank you for reading.


End file.
